


Small Distraction, A

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:31:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Egg beater challenge story.





	Small Distraction, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

A Small Distraction by cathy lee

01-Nov-97  
Short Story Challenge  
Here's little something for the short-short story challenge. Implied M/K slash, NC-17. The usual disclaimers apply. MKRA yes. Exactly 500 words.

* * *

"A Small Distraction"  
by cathy lee ()

He'd started preparing dinner but lost interest within minutes. Instead, for the fourth straight night, he found himself flopping across the couch, pressing the rewind and play buttons and listening to an illicitly obtained surveillance recording. That annoying sound started. He'd sworn it was the rapid clicking whirl of an eggbeater until the technician explained the defect in the recording equipment. When it began to fade the recorded conversation became gradually clearer. He'd read the transcripts prepared by the FBI agent and the translator. In a Philadelphia hotel, a Russian mobster of was arranging to receive funding from a Russian intelligence officer. The mobster's name was Vladmir Turovsky. He was a tall, good-looking man in his thirties; a surveillance photograph lay across the coffee table. The Russian intelligence officer was none other than his expartner, Alex Krycek. 

They talked and negotiated in hushed tones. Illegal arms shipments, intelligence theft, funding -he'd read it all the transcript. But when they began negotiating something entirely different their voices changed dramatically. Mulder could always tell when the conversation made that peculiar hairpin detour. Krycek got flirtatiously cocky. Turovsky's voice became a low sexy growl. Then sudden silence as the men moved apart. This was where the tape started picking up everything; bedsprings squeaking from someone's weight, distant water running, an audible sigh. No conversation occurred for a few minutes but something was definitely happening. He heard the metallic whoosh of a jacket zipper, the hissing friction of denim against denim, wet mouths opening and sucking, little moans.... 

This was the beginning of the section that'd been transcribed as simply, "sounds of sexual intercourse." The bouncing creak told him both bodies had fallen onto the bed. Mulder unzipped his own trousers then, grasping and stroking his stiffening cock. The moans over the tape became louder. He could only imagine what was happening; hands greedily flying over hot skin, sucking kisses, adoring licks... . The lovemaking quieted as bodies repositioned, then more soft conversation in Russian... so little of this had been transcribed; embarrassment on the part of the translator perhaps? 

Next came a sound that traveled from Mulder's ears to his brain and then straight to his groin. Krycek released an excruciated cry as he was entered. After this, it continued unrelentingly. One cry after another punctuated by Turovsky's low possessive grunts and the obscene creaking of the bedsprings. Little encouragements in Russian, scattered English obscenities...

Mulder squeezed and stroked his own cock in time to the recorded fucking. He groaned, imagining himself there... so good. The cries became faster, more desperate. Alex's agonized moans from being repeatedly impaled by Turovsky. The pleasure... it was so intense. Mulder pictured himself doing that to Alex, making Alex scream ...oh Christ... making him cum...

Later he heard a series of muted whispers while the men settled into bed together, exhausted from their exertions. He turned off the recorder then and reached for the stained and stiffened towel, still lying on the coffee table from the night before.

Oct. 31, 1997


End file.
